The wake up call
rang steadily,
throughout the desperate morn.
The pilgrims and the prophets cried
as we were all reborn.
The temple walls collapsing,
upon the hollow mount.
Bodies strewn across the land,
too many now to count.
The serpent went a running,
they say he's hiding in the sand.
His days were always numbered,
his evil ways always to grand.
No doubt he will return someday,
to test the will of man.
See that old serpent never dies,
for he's part of the plan.